


You're Unbelievable

by coswicked



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coswicked/pseuds/coswicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>teenage!soccercop + movie watching + insecurity + cute gay nerds + making out</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Unbelievable

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sofia (canadiancop) on Tumblr pretty much cause she's the coolest

The front door slammed satisfyingly behind Alison’s magenta backpack, a welcoming  _bang_. Beth’s house felt significantly more homely than her own.

“Your parents?”

“Working. They won’t be home until late tomorrow night, I think. And Sarah and Cos are probably coming over a bit later too. Do yours know you’re here?”

"They think I’m at Cosima’s." The veiled hurt in Beth’s eyes had the same effect as stabbing Alison in the chest with a stake.

And twisting it.

Repeatedly.

To say her parents hadn’t been accepting when the nature of her and Beth’s relationship had been (accidentally) revealed was a tremendous understatement. It was a disappointing yet undeniable truth that the scandalized Mrs. Hendrix was far too traditional for the 21st century. Alison hated the way Beth felt obligated to reassure her that it was alright - “Ali, it really doesn’t bother me” - when the tight skin around her eyes said differently. Alison loathed it, despised her mother for inducing that pained look.

Alison tightened her ponytail, tagging along behind Beth and into the kitchen: a modern composition of stainless steel and smooth tile. Backpacks were promptly discarded on the kitchen counter; jackets hung on the back of dining chairs.

Bruised minds and battered limbs collapsed lazily onto the living room loveseat. Beth grinned at Alison’s look of distaste that developed when she rested her sock-clad feet on Alison’s thigh.

It had been another exhausting week of dodging deadlines and failed attempts to skirt around the high school radar. Aspirations to make the most of the upcoming weekend floated in the air, inevitably to be disregarded in favour of sleep and movie marathons, homework bound to be forgotten in crammed binders until the late hours of Sunday night. The scenery outside the living room window alluded to the typical October weather; half-naked trees shuddered in the chilly wind, and tornadoes of red, orange and yellow decorated the streets. Beth’s body felt lethargic as she studied the display. An enticing crinkle sounded as she shifted slightly on the couch.

 _Fuck yes,_ she thought, palming the pack of gum in her pocket.

Berry Blast.

Alison’s favourite.

"I'm picking a movie," Alison informed, rising first from the loveseat after a few minutes - hours, maybe, Beth couldn't say for sure - of relaxation.

Beth groaned, popping a small gum tablet in her mouth. “You mean we’re watching  _Rent_  again?”

“Hey!  _Rent_  is a classic, Elizabeth.”

“Some would say  _American Pie_  is a classic too. It doesn’t mean it’s a good movie.”

Alison scoffed and eyed Beth in disbelief. “Yeah, well,  _Rent_ is. And whoever you’ve been talking to has a horrendously mistaken definition of a classic.”

“Please, let’s watch anything but. Like _The Avengers_  or  _Prisoners_  or something.”

“We won’t watch  _Rent_ again. Something else just as good.”

More weak protests filtered through Beth’s lips. ‘Good’ was a subjective term when it came to Alison Hendrix.

Beth’s hopes for watching something that classified as ‘good’ in _her_ book faded as Alison fed the DVD player one of the many Alison-esque musicals that she had abandoned at Beth’s house for occasions such as these – which were unsurprisingly often thanks to the suffocating air of judgement and negativity choking the Hendrix household.

Beth's house was Alison's refuge, a sanctuary from a father hiding disapproving glares behind the black and white ink of the morning paper and a mother constantly yammering on about how this 'homosexual phase' of hers was just that: a phase.

Alison ignored Beth's whines of disagreement as she pulled the window curtains shut, devious strands of light the only illumination in the room.

Beth’s kindling complaints were extinguished entirely when Alison curled up next to her; her head rested on Beth’s left shoulder, arm wrapped leisurely around Beth’s waist, legs folded on the couch. A soft fabric that Alison procured from who-the-fuck-knows-where – Beth sure didn't, and this was supposed to be her house – sheltered them. As cheesy introductory music drooled from the surround sound, Beth could feel the other girl’s body heat melt through her blue hoodie.

Beth focused on the movie for as long as her preoccupied mind allowed – it was pathetic, really, that she paid only enough attention to register a couple corporation logos floating on the screen before Alison’s presence became too maddeningly distracting.  _To hell with the shitty movie,_  she thought, her eyes shifting from the LCD to the girl beside her. She studied the side of her face, the perfect features and adorable nose adorned in shadows. Her lips looked dangerously soft, emphasized by a light gloss. They were parted slightly to allow for quiet, leveled breaths.

 _I’m so fucked_.

It was times like these, Alison curled up next to her, when Beth actually allowed herself to relax, to forget that she was  _Beth Childs_ , star athlete, ‘going to do big things, that one!’. Around Alison, she allowed the pressure to alleviate; she found herself able to take deep breaths to remove the stress from her eternally strained, dog-tired body.

Beth basked in Alison’s presence.

She reveled in the fact that someone as wonderful as Alison would ever be interested in her, reveled when her chest lightened considerably at the sight of Alison entering the crowded caf at lunch, reveled in small touches and hands itching to hold. Most prominently, though, she rejoiced in the sensation of just being Beth – or, sometimes ‘ _Elizabeth Childs!_ ’ if she was being particularly stubborn-

“Beth, you’re missing the best part of the movie,” Alison accused lightly. She, on the other hand, had dutifully ignored the pinpricks of Beth’s gaze for an impressive amount of time.

Beth started, fingers ceasing their repetitive musings on Alison’s arm. “Wha– no! I know exactly what’s happening.”

Alison raised an unconvinced eyebrow, swiveling slightly to capture her gaze. The creamy leather couch mumbled beneath them in humble protest.

Alison's gaze was worryingly serious. “Beth, do you even know the main character’s name?”

Beth’s eyes snapped to the television dwelling on the wall. All appeared to be just as it had been when Beth had briefly glanced up ten minutes prior: swaying arms, haywire hair, cavernous mouths. Oh, and lots of tears, but just as many smiles, which was fucking confusing. But Ali liked it – for obscure thespian reasons, most likely – so she had tried her hardest not to let on how much she really loathed Alison’s taste in film. The shitty movies and Alison’s warmth balanced each other out quite nicely anyways.

Alison huffed exasperatedly – Beth’s lack of focus was a common source of irritation – her breath slicing clean-through the redundant notes and tones exhaled by the TV.

“You are ridiculous. This is another classic,  _an actual classic_ , and you’re not even appreciating it!”

It became apparent that Beth was a glutton for punishment. “Yeah, 'classic’, my ass.”

Alison’s mouth gaped open indignantly. “ _Beth_!”

“I’m sorry, Ali, but I don’t see what’s so great. Some of these lines they could easily just  _speak_.”

Alison made a show of taking an exaggeratedly deep breath. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I thought I could educate you. I was clearly wrong.”

“Would it make you feel better if I said that I was appreciating you instead?” Beth grinned cheekily, rolling her eyes at Alison's dramatics.

Alison scoffed. An errant, fluttery hand flitted up to rest on her neck. “Please don’t. Watch the movie.” She cleared her throat, swallowing roughly, before returning her head to Beth’s shoulder and settling into her arms once more.

Something off in Alison’s tone burrowed its way into Beth’s veins, threaded through her body, spread a bleakness that tore intensely at Beth’s heart. Creases materialized on her forehead as she gazed at the blur of colour and light on the flat-screen.

“Alison?”

“Hm?”

“You know, you’re really, really beautiful.”

Beth could feel Alison’s tiny limbs and muscles tense up against her before she cleared her throat tightly, her voice sounding strangled. “Yeah, okay. Beth, you really don’t have t-“

“No, seriously, Ali. I just realized I don’t tell you that nearly often enough – hey! Why’re you giving me that look?”

Alison turned her head hurriedly, pivoting too far to the left to pass as watching the movie.

“Ali, look at me.”

Alison sighed lightly, hesitating for a brief second, before returning Beth’s gaze. She leaned back to allow for a more generous space between them.

“Seriously, Alison, how can you not believe me?”

Beth could see Alison lock her jaw. She seemed to mull over what she wanted to say in her head. If the crease on her forehead was anything to go, Beth could tell that she was trying to decide whether to tell her or not.

Beth gave her time to organize her thoughts, her own stomach twisting at the downturn of Alison's lips. Her fingers yearned to draw soothing lines on Alison's cheeks until the distressed lines faded altogether.

Alison reached for the silver chain around her neck and she fiddled with it anxiously. “Can I... can I be frank?”

Beth raised her hands in a  _come at me_ sort of gesture, encouraging Alison with a somber expression.

“Beth, I... sometimes I wonder why you even want to… be with me. No, wait! Let nme finish.” She dismissed the defiant look on Beth’s face, the parted mouth desperate to interrupt. She focused on a family portrait dangling - irritably crooked - on the wall behind Beth. “I mean, I have a reputation for being an uptight, goody two shoes b- _bitch_. I mean, I understand that I’m not a very likeable person – and I’m in  _drama_  for goodness’ sake. And you – Beth, you’re so... popular, for lack of a better word. You could have anyone in the entire school." Alison's eyes burned at the accuracy of the statement that she'd never dared to speak aloud before, save for in a drunken stupor to Felix. "And I feel like I have nothing to, like, get you to stay with me-” Beth’s lips gently, firmly ceased the word vomit dripping from hers.

“Please stop talking,” she murmured. Her lips idled until she felt Alison’s forehead knock against hers. She leaned back. “I can’t believe – Ali, I love you, so much, for  _you_. I _love_ your passion for theatre.  Fuck – sorry, screw – anyone that tells you that it’s something to be ashamed of – and I love the way you blow your bangs when you’re angry, especially if your anger's directed at me,” Beth grinned, evoking a minuscule smile from Alison. “And I especially love your obsession with all things pink, even if I don’t understand it, and your aversion to swearing. You're so beautiful. Believe me, Alison, I don’t do bullshit. I mean what I say, alright?” She waited for an affirming nod. “I’m here for as long as you want me here.”

Alison allowed another small smile. “Okay.”

“And if anyone ever,  _ever_  calls you an ‘uptight bitch’ again, you better tell me. 'Cause Sarah and I will straighten them the fuck out.”

Now it was Alison’s turn to roll her eyes at Beth’s dramatics. “I hardly think that’ll ever be necessary. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, well, you never know.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Alison promised, her gaze lingering on Beth’s lips. “I  _really_  want to kiss you right now.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Yeah, okay, good.” Alison closed the rather short distance between them quickly. She opened her mouth for Beth’s, their tongues meeting immediately. Beth’s hands cupped Alison’s face, Alison’s tangling in Beth’s hair as she wrapped her arms around Beth’s neck. Beth smiled into the kiss as Alison readjusted herself, lifting her leg to straddle Beth, pressing her against the back of the couch. Her hands strayed to Alison’s hips, pulling her even closer. The blanket was tossed to the floor, the remaining fabric between them suddenly seeming a thousand times too thick.

Alison was the first to pull away after a few minutes, panting so adorably Beth had to fight to refrain from kissing her again.

“Are you actually chewing that berry gum right now?”

“I… thought it was your favourite?”

“Yeah, it is, but I only told you that  _yesterday_.”

Beth frowned, unsure of where this was headed. Her head felt foggy from their kiss, her thoughts a muddled whirlwind, and every time she focused she realized that her gaze was shamelessly locked on Alison’s lips - it felt like she to rip her eyes away. Alison’s own darkened eyes and ruffled hair, still detained in a now-messy ponytail, did nothing to help. “Uh huh?”

“And you were able to find it and buy a pack in a day?!”

Beth had the mind to look slightly sheepish. “Oh… well yeah. In my defense, I had nothing else to do last night!”

“Except that chemistry lab report due that you oh so proudly claimed to not have had the time to start.”

“Yeah, the gum was definitely more important.”

Alison shook her head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Damn right. Can we get back to making out now?”

"Absolutely."

 


End file.
